Snow Angel:: Throb
by Elixean
Summary: Ninety-eight percent complete. Two percent doesn't exist. What does the School have in store for this firecracker white-haired wonder?
1. Dedications, Disclaimers, and Charries

- D E D I C A T I O N S / D I S C L A I M E R –

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Dedicated to my two best friends, Rixy and Xem. You two are my flock! And, of course, my family and other friends who've supported me along the way.

Lix

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All characters and events in this book are based on the book series by James Patterson, Maximum Ride. I, Elixean, do not own or have a copyright on the series. This is a Fan Fiction. Fan Fictions are not written by the real authors, or else they'd be Author Fictions, and that just doesn't sound as good.

Also, please note that I stopped reading the series after book four because it would have ruined my inspiration for _Snow Angel_. Several important events that occurred after book four have not been realized by myself, and therefore you may have arguments about my story. Don't bring them up. I told you; book four was the end for me.

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- C H A R A C T E R S –

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Icy Harvenger (New Character): The main character of book one, a girl of six foot three with waist-length snow white hair and long, white-tipped eye-lashes. She has ice-blue eyes and very pale skin. She has icy white wings with a span of eighteen feet total. She has a fierce temper and a strong will. She is ninety-four percent human, three percent bird, and one percent ice. She is two percent incomplete.

Wren (New Character): A good-guy/bad-guy of the series, Wren is a new Eraser who's been a prime experiment since his creation. He has lengthy, layered jet black hair and stormy gray eyes. As usual, he is unnaturally beautiful and strong. He is seven feet tall with dark tan skin. He is a bit sarcastic, and pessimistic, but he has a good heart.

Phoenix Harvenger (New Character): Another experiment, Icy's brother, Phoenix is a redhead who's basically the comic relief of the story. He is six foot with emerald green eyes and regular sandy skin. He has seventeen foot wingspan with jet black wings. He can summon fire whenever he wishes to.

Duncan (New Character): A tall blond man, Crusoe's adoptive father, with pale hazel eyes. He's very kind, and his neighbors know him for his many adoptions. He lives in a very nice penthouse at the top of a building overlooking New York. He's married to a girl, but she's got a job that keeps her away.

Crusoe (New Character): A teenager with spiked-up green hair and shimmering royal blue eyes. He's a real firecracker, but he has true concern for Icy.

Evan Chade (New Character): Icy's teacher, and actually a close friend, he's a healthy young blond with crystal clear eyes and a fair attitude. He cares very much for Icy's well-being.

Ranger Chade (New Character): Evan Chade's father, an elderly man. He's good-natured with a gruff voice.

Sahar Chade (New Character): Evan Chade's wife, a brunette with long, wavy hair down to her waist. She's always quiet and concerned.


	2. Chapter 1:: Books And Their Halls

The long cream-colored halls were bustling with chatter, echoing with bellowing laughter and giggles. Footsteps and slamming lockers could also be heard, but mostly the chatter. People in this place were loud. People in this place were… unique. All sorts of people moved through these halls; thin, pudgy, fat, brawny, short, tall, maybe even normal. Well, no, scratch normal. No one's normal. Especially not me.

I, with my frosty white hair and long, white-tipped eyelashes am far from normal. I, a Junior girl who stands taller than or as tall as most of the Senior boys, am definitely not normal. I, with my eyes as cold and clear as ice chips, am not, nor have I ever been, normal. I'm not the kind of chick you'd expect to go to school with a bunch of preppy, image-obsessed humans. No, I'm not referring to my race in the third person. I'm no human. Not exactly.

I know what you're thinking. I've watched movies. I'm _not_ an alien. I'm not human… I'm _part_ human. Ninety-four percent human. Three percent bird. One percent ice. Maybe that explains why I'm so cold. Cold to the core, cold to the flesh. I was a walking ice cube. In all technicality, two percent of me isn't living. It doesn't exist. On the bright side, I don't feel as much pain as the other humans. I'm a fight champ in the school.

I know this sounds unusual. But I know you've heard this before. I can fly. I have wings. White wings. The wings have an eighteen foot wingspan. Impressive. I know. Oh, yeah, what's not so impressive is that I molt. For those of you who aren't familiar with bird terms, that means I shed my feathers. Oh, yeah, I shed all over the school. Don't laugh. You try it.

Okay, really, it's hard enough being a super tall freak in a public school without shedding feathers all over the floor. I just walk down the hall and there they go, flying off to who knows where. It's not fair that I can actually get suspended for molting. It's not like I can help that. It's in my DNA.

I pressed myself between the students, occupied by my own thoughts, moving quickly through the halls. My wings were pressed to my body, form-fitting, and sleek. Oh, I could hear every comment that was said behind my back. It got worse the older I grew. But I don't care. I gossip, too.

A locker slammed shut to my right, and I glanced over to catch the eyes of my friend whose eyes were locked on my wings. Cole Demp had always been enthralled by my wings, and I had always scolded him for staring, but with my mind drifting like today, I figured, hey, what the heck? I'd stare if I was him.

Catching my gaze, Cole glanced away, looking shameful, but he came to my side like a loyal friend would and tried to strike up a conversation.

"I haven't seen you in a few months," he commented. Then, with a dry smile, he added, "We all thought you'd flown south for the winter."

I let out a gruff chuckle, but I wasn't amused. He was always making cracks like that. Another thing that couldn't be helped.

Noticing that there was silence, Cole smiled awkwardly and said, "It's good to see you, Icy."

I gave him a half-smile in return. "Same to you."

"How've you been?" Cole asked. Conversation wasn't my forte. I noticed that he didn't ask where I was. He knew how I would've reacted. That was good. I didn't want to share.

"Can't really complain. It's like it always was," I answered. "I still want to kick the crud out of all the 'popular' people."

Cole snickered and smiled. His mother was a dentist; he'd always had a gorgeous, dazzling smile, but I was never impressed. He sighed and replied fondly, "You never change. It's just like you."

I forced a laugh, but I set up my barriers now, sinking back into my world. Yeah. It was just like me. Someone dear to me had once referred to me as a viper. I asked him what he meant, and for half a year he didn't answer. Finally, though, he explained that I was charming and hypnotic, but I was lethal. I wouldn't deny that. I was rebellious and cold, but at the same time I was 'gorgeous.' I don't know what he was talking about.

Oh, yeah, there's a shocker. A girl with wings being gorgeous? Most guys would say that crap just so they can get a girlfriend. But I know this guy wasn't lying to me. He wouldn't just say it; he meant it. Who's this mystery man? His name is Jeb Batchedler.

Maybe somebody else's story is coming to mind now. Or maybe it isn't. It depends on how much you care about current events. Most kids have read Max's warnings, her little journal or Fang's blog about the whole 'School taking over the world' thing. I agree that the School's bad. But I wouldn't try to kill anybody, or anything, about it. No duh I've heard of Maximum Ride. I'd have to be crazy to not have. She's a girl like me with wings. But she's not like me. I'm better.

I don't have to deal with the misery of emotions like she and her flock do. No issues with bleeding out. No problems with fighting. I can break my hand and keep swinging. I'll share a little tidbit with you; my bones are made of ice. Hollow ice. Light, and self-fixing. If my wrist breaks, the bones will melt, the water will shift, and then it'll freeze up again, just as strong as ever. Of course, this gives me a bit of a weakness. Heat. I sort of hate the sun, but don't most people?

Still, like I said, I'm better than Maximum. If I could be taken out by light, well, then, I'd be dead by now. But the sun can't get the best of me. I have a secret weapon. Get on your reading glasses and pay attention, because this is where it gets interesting. This is where it gets real cool… get it?

My body temperature can rise or lower twenty degrees in under three seconds. How? I have two hearts. One was implanted into my embryo, and the other is natural. All my red blood recedes from my veins with a fleeting thought, pooling up into my red heart, and the second heart on the right side of my body which stores a special type of water begins to pump, and in seconds I'm cooled off. If I get too cold, my hearts automatically switch back, unless I specifically 'tell' them not to. Although I've never gotten too cold.

You remember what I said about emotions, how I don't have to suffer their misery? That's a harder concept to explain. It'll make sense when I finish explaining. You see, the people who 'created' me, Icy Harvenger, the 'Snow Angel,' chose to dissect my brain when I was only, like, four. Don't freak out. I'll explain. They didn't dissect every little piece. Just the part that allows you human people to feel happy, sad, angry, loving, etcetera.

I was only four, so you've got to understand how afraid I was, sitting with some people doing a biopsy and lobotomy of my emotions. But Jeb was there, and his presence just made everything seem right. Normal. Oh, yeah, I was awake while they probed through my skull. It's not like I could've felt anything.

After the surgery, Jeb told me that I had a special ability, the ability to heal using my ice bones. He said that my ability had prevented them from completely removing my emotions, like they'd wanted, but instead lessened their intensity, mostly leaving the negative emotions. I quickly noticed the change.

On most days, where I'd be poked and prodded with needles till I passed out, I'd have cried and wailed in fear and sadness. But afterwards I didn't feel anything. I'd just scream at the scientists. I'd yell how unfair it was that I had to lie under a blinding light for hours on end. Jeb had to teach me to control my anger after I decked a chick in the face for defying me.

So, yeah, that's basically me. Oh, you've noticed that the numbers don't quite add up. Ninety-eight percent complete. Right? And you're wondering where the other two percent of me is. I'm just going with the excuse that ninety-eight is the new one hundred.

I blinked as Cole's elbow slammed into my ribs. I growled, and he continued with a grunt, "Hey, Icy, you missed your classroom!"

I whirled around on my heel, my eyes narrowed and furious. "Thanks," I muttered as I began to stalk back to the class. I lifted my head to see the familiar face of my science teacher, Mr. Chade, giving me a wry smile and tapping his digital wristwatch. I bit my lip and picked up the pace, still pushing between other students who began to rush to their classes.

As I walked past my teacher, he patted my back between my wings, slightly pushing me in the door towards my seat. The motion wasn't uncommon, nor was it more than a simple nudge. He was the school counselor, and a good friend.

He followed me in the classroom, then veered off to his desk, sitting tall and straight in his chair to check his E-Mails until ten minutes after the bell rang. In that time, the students would read to themselves, or quietly talk to their neighbors. I moved over to my desk in the back of the room, flopping down into the chair just as the bell rang, setting down my binder and picking up my book. I'm not all about the latest trends, but I can't really complain about Twilight. It's got vampires.

I'd read about fifty or so pages within seven minutes when I felt a piece of paper land in my hair. Without lifting my eyes, I reached up with my thin hand, plucking the paper off a long white strand of hair and letting it drop to the floor.

My wings twitched, then flexed and began to outstretch to their full length. The tips of my wings barely missed the opposite walls, and the slim, sparkling white feathers stretched and splayed, towering over the classroom. With my enhanced hearing I could make out the voices of three boys, one whimpering in fear, and the other two laughing nervously.

I lifted my bored and indifferent eyes to the one who was afraid, a scowl on my face. _Do you really want to do that?_

The selected boy shifted uncomfortably under my cold gaze, his eyes uneasy, his face flushing as fear began to course through him. I was a very scary person, I'd bet. He peeled his eyes away from mine, tapping his pencil nervously on his desk and staring at the front of the room where Mr. Chade now stood. My gaze followed the kid's, and I absently reached for my bookmark and awaited Mr. Chade's teaching.

"Today we are studying human reproduction." A hurricane of growls and groans flooded over Mr. Chade, and his cold eyes raked over every student. They grew deathly silent. He continued, "This unit will continue until next Friday. If you or your parents have questions or comments, you all have my number."

I leaned back in my chair, folding my wings in, my icy eyes burning into Mr. Chade's skull. At first, I was sort of paying attention, but then all interest faded away. After five minutes, I wanted to bang my head on my desk and scream.

Slowly, inconspicuously, I reached into my binder and pulled out a notebook with a vintage cover and a pencil. I set the notebook on my lap so that the spine was on my knees, and I glanced up to see Mr. Chade rambling on about the unthinkable. I lowered my face once more to the notebook, flipping it open to reveal the first, and last, page.

Instead of opening up to a piece of lined paper, or even blank paper, it revealed a thick sheet a translucent material. I set the sheet on the cover, and then could be seen a white flashing cursor, like what one would see when typing. I waved my hand over the bottom cover, and a holographic keyboard faded into existence beneath my fingertips. Suddenly, on the upper sheet of paper, words appeared.

_HELLO, ICY. HOW'S SCHOOL?_

I couldn't help but smile. I could always put his voice to his writing. It was Jeb. I gently poked at the practically transparent keys, not touching the cover and making no sound.

_GOOD ENOUGH. I'M LEARNING ABOUT HUMAN REPRODUCTION. YAY._

I swore I could hear amusement in his reply.

_WHAT IS LIFE WITHOUT LOVE?_

I didn't bother to think about it, and I didn't want to, but I had to admit that without love I wouldn't exist. Yuck.

_WHEN ARE YOU COMING TO BRING ME HOME, JEB?_

"Miss Harvenger?"

My head snapped up as Mr. Chade called my name. My eyes narrowed. "Yes?" I wasn't embarrassed that he'd called on me during sex-ed. I didn't fear getting in trouble. I have no troubles with my emotions. Truth be told, I was mad. He had no right to burst into the conversation that he had no idea I was having.

_YES HE DOES. HE'S YOUR TEACHER, AND A GOOD FRIEND._

My eyes flickered to the screen for half a second, and I frowned at Jeb's response. Somehow he always knew what I was thinking. It was kind of creepy.

"Miss Harvenger, you aren't paying attention," Mr. Chade mused. "What are the—" He cut off as a soft ringing began to sound from the intercom, repetitive and annoying. Under his breath, I could hear Mr. Chade murmur, "I was not alerted of a lock-down drill today…"

Mr. Chade's class was one of the few in the very center of the school, one of the few classes with only two doors to get in or out. Naturally, that meant it had no windows. On the bright side, that meant less work for the students in the class.

Mr. Chade slid over to the light switch behind his desk, and he flipped it to off silently. My eyes quickly adjusted to the shadows. Another benefit of being a freak is that my eyes can collect a single particle of light and change it to day-time vision. I could see every detail on the students' faces, and their wide, fearful eyes. They knew something wasn't right. And so did I. I glanced at the screen of my notebook and typed quickly.

_JEB, WHAT'S GOING ON AT THE SCHOOL?_

The response was almost instant. My heart began to race.

_YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THAT PLACE. __**NOW**__. I'M COMING TO GET YOU._

__I could tell by how hard my eyes were straining that it was pitch black in the classroom, and in all the rest of the school. Good. That meant no one could see me leaving.

I stood from my chair quickly and silently, like a ghost rising from a grave, keeping my wings tightly pressed against my body like earlier. I prayed that the tips of my wings wouldn't brush anyone's shoulders or neck and startle them. That would blow my cover. I weaved between the desks and the bookshelves till I reached the door, keeping my notebook close to my belly. I reached for the handle of the door, turned it slowly, and pushed outward, emerging into the hall.

As I suspected, the rest of the school was just as dark as the class had been. The halls echoed with my footsteps, and my breathing. The cold was silent, and haunting. Pressure began building in my skull, from the strain of keeping the night-sight going. I hadn't trained it much since I learned I had it.

I glanced from side to side once or twice as I headed for an exit, staying close to the center of the hallway to give me space to maneuver. I heard several sets of footsteps from across the school, and my eyes narrowed, and I stared around uneasily. I slowed to a halt and whirled around, staring through the shadows.

The pain in my skull was growing merciless and intense. I turned to my right, staring down a hall to the way out. Bingo. Light flooded from the door, and I allowed my brain a rest, allowing my vision to go almost black.

A chill crawled up my spine, and their was hot breath in my ear. A gravelly voice hissed, "Wrong move, dove."

I was a predictive fighter. Most fighters would first aim a blow to the head, attempting to knock their victim into unconsciousness, making a shorter and easier fight. I followed my instinct, as I always did, and I ducked, just as something slashed through the air, cutting through the air itself. I knew what would come next; it would be a sweep kick to knock me onto my back. I pushed off the ground with my legs, lashing my wings to make one good, heavy beat. I felt the top of my head touch the ceiling, and I knew it would be safer up top than down on the ground. I spread my wings and kept them flapping so I was suspended above my adversary's head.

"Clever girl," the creature mused in its deep, gruff voice. I still couldn't see, and it would only make concentrating on fighting harder. All around I could hear the steps and quiet hissing cackles from several creatures much like my attacker. And by all around I did mean above my head, too.

I ducked under the ceiling panel with a surprised gasp just as something broke through, falling to the floor beneath me with a snarl. Debris showered my head, and I flinched, instinctively moving downward, away from the falling ceiling panel, and right into the reach of my attackers.

The first attacker grasped my ankle with what felt like hooked claws, yanking me to the ground and slamming me down on the floor. Oh, yeah, sure my bones can heal in a flash, but my organs and muscle are still organs and muscle. They heal just a few days faster than a normal human's do.

My head rang as he threw me to the ground, hearing tile break underneath my skull, but now wasn't the time to cry out in pain. I rolled back, onto my upper back, and pushed off of the grounds with my wings and hands, my legs stretched out in front of me. I felt one foot connect with the jaw of my attacker, an angular, bony jaw, and he flew backwards with an evil hiss. Through all this I still had my notebook clutched in my hand. I wouldn't let these rancid loons find Jeb.

I landed lightly several feet away, and then I shot for the hole in the ceiling. The enemies would attack and bring me down if I gave them a chance, and I would try to keep that possibility to a minimum. I scrambled up through the hole in the ceiling, my wings almost unable to fit through, and I rose to my feet, gazing around into the shadows. There was a skylight above my head, so thankfully this room was brighter than the halls. But still, a presence lingered, stalking me as it moved like a shadow over the ceiling panels. I could feel warmth radiating from where the creature was. I knew where he was, not what he was, or what he was planning. He could see me, and I couldn't see him, and that was bad business.

After several moments of stillness, I narrowed my eyes, and my night vision flickered back to life. Stalking forward from behind several boxes was something like a wolf, but something so different from a wolf that I couldn't help but blink in shock several times. The creature had long, matted, prickly gray-brown fur and big, heavy paws with claws like talons. Its teeth were long and sharp like daggers, clean and white. Its eyes were narrow slits of hatred and bloodlust. The creature leaned back to its haunches, then leaped for me in the darkness.

I dodged a second before it hit—thank God for quick reaction time—and watched it slam into another pile of heavy wooden crates behind me. It struggled, but it was buried beneath several hundred pounds of weight. It thrashed and snarled, scrabbling feebly at the floor. I couldn't help but smile devilishly, and I stared up at the skylight.

"Time to go," I mused to myself, shooting off the ground and breaking through the window with my rock-hard skull. People call people numb-skulls, but they've never broken through a window using only their head while climbing in vertical ascension at approximately ninety miles an hour. Once a fair distance above the school, my night vision stopped working, and I froze, practically hovering in mid-air and staring, horrified, down through the broken skylight. My hands were empty.

I patted myself over quickly, searching for my notebook, and an irritation welled up inside of me. My notebook was gone. I'd left my notebook in the monster-infested school. I could only assume I'd lost it when I flew up through the hole in the ceiling and pulled myself through. I could remember having it through the jump, but after that I must have lost my grip on it or set it down.

That was my only communication with Jeb. I bit my lip. He was going to kill me. Then I swallowed hard. He couldn't kill me if the monsters did first. With that final fleeting thought, I plunged straight down into the school the face the darkness.


	3. Chapter 2:: Sculpturades

I swallowed. "Wish me luck," I muttered under my breath to the air, though part of me hoped that Jeb could hear my plea. Me, begging for luck. See, if luck was on my side, I wouldn't be in this mess. But it isn't, and so I am. I held my breath and took a nose-dive towards the shattered sky-light. I entered it and had a fraction of a second to spread open my wings before I would've gone either 'splat' or 'crash,' and neither one sounded too pleasant at the moment. I landed gracefully on my two feet, crouched low to the ground, and my night vision turned back on, scanning the room with a bit of discomfort. I may be able to see in the dark, but I'm not made to do this for so long.

As I searched the darkness of the attic, or whatever you'd call this, dismay coursed through my entire body, from my head to the tip of my wings. The enemy, whatever it was, had gone without a trace. The boxes were stacked up neatly once more, and the ceiling panel that had been broken a few feet from my position now had been replaced. I stared for a moment longer and sighed. Had the danger already passed? Had it ever really happened? Don't you _hate_ questions like those? They always jinx you.

Suddenly at least three dozen of the huge monster creatures leaped over the stacks of boxes, their lips curled back to reveal their dagger-like fangs, and their eyes glowing a menacing amber. I scrambled to regain my composure, backing slowly away from the advancing brutes as they cornered me. This was a terrible, horribly bad situation, and so naturally a few curses flew from my pale lips.

"The bird brain has a naughty mouth," a low voice cackled deeply, and I recognized it as the voice of the first beast that had attacked me.

I snapped uncharitably, "Why not fight fair? Maybe shed some light on this stupid situation?"

The wolf's glinting eyes showed obvious amusement. "Does the darkness frighten you?" he chided, and amused hisses came from his followers in a soft wav of sound.

"No," I argued instantly, my feather's puffing out indignantly, "it just gives you an advantage."

The monster's chest heaved out in a deep-throated, unnaturally venomous chuckle. "Unfair advantages are how champions are made, dove." His body lowered to the ground in the beginnings of a spring, his powerful body rippling with lean muscle.

I sighed in an annoyed tone, "Allow me the privilege of knowing what in the world you are before you tear me to pieces."

He smirked, his dagger-fangs glimmering in the darkness, and he leaned back into a comfortable yet action-ready sitting position. "I, my avian snack," he began, "am an Eraser, as are all of my troops. We are an advanced race of creatures created by the same organization of tacky old ladies and gents who created you."

My icy eyes widened in dismay. "The School?" I breathed softly. Even such a small bit of information was making my head spin in circles. Why would the School send these guys after me?

The Eraser laughed, interrupting my thoughts, and he said brightly in his gruff voice, "Bingo!"

My eyes flickered with doubt and curiosity as I murmured questioningly, "But why would they—"

His tail lashed, and his hackles rose as he snarled coldly, "Enough! If you think _that's_ bad ponder this little tidbit carefully. We Erasers were born and bred to hunt down and capture or kill escaped subjects of the experiments like you."

I stared unbelievingly back at him and he continued, amused by was he said.

"I bet you'd never guess what love-life monster assigned us to take you down, little dove." He cut himself off, his voice lowering, and a soft, whisper-like laugh came from his dog lips. "It's your dear, sweet, beloved Jeb."

I wouldn't give that brute another advantage over me, so I stifled my pure shock and dismay he'd instilled deep in my soul. A wave of cold flooded over me as my second heart, the ice heart, began to thump to life and cool my body. Burning with cold fury I lunged at the dog with a battle-cry.

Obviously the stupid brutes don't know _all _about me. Oh, no. If they did, they would _not_ have infuriated me with such a lie!

I felt power blazing through my fingertips, and my eyes glinted with deadly and pleased fire as a young and foolish Eraser leaped to his paws and lunged in front of his leader, defending him as best as he could. Too bad his boldness would cost him his life.

The young Eraser felt my hands connect with his neck, and at that point he stopped his cry of battle and began to howl and cry out in pure pain and misery. I dug my nails into his skin, my fingers burning through his fur and skin as though dry ice had been injected into his blood. The next sight was eerie, and the other Erasers were stunned.

The Eraser and I had collapsed to the ground, and I trembled violently as several quaking waves of freezing power flooded from me to him, turning his body into a clear and perfect ice sculpture of a screaming Eraser.

I rose to my feet, still holding him in my hands, and I let him drop to the floor; his frozen body shattered like a glass cup, and the shards scattered across the floor. I cracked my knuckles and gazed around, gasping for breath and daring another beast to come at me.

The Erasers all stared, whimpering in fear and cowering away, but the main dog stared evenly into my eyes. He could hear how ragged and shallow my breaths had become, and he could see the quaking in my knees as my power began to very slowly regenerate itself.

"Seems like one percent ice and two percent incomplete has done you some good," he murmured. He crouched low, his broad shoulders flexing, the muscles rippling under his thick black fur.

He and I were both aware that there was no way I could conjure up the destructive ice sculpture attack again without killing myself in the process, but there was no way he was going to underestimate me like his late friend had.

He lunged at my feet, slashing his forepaws at my shin, and I easily leaped over the strikes, not bothering to stay up for long; the ceiling was low, and he could easily throw me down. I dodged to the left, avoiding a downward slash, and then to the right, avoiding an upward one. The next move was obviously predictable, but somehow I hadn't seen it coming.

The massive black Eraser, right after the first two missed, used his head and butted me right in the nose; the bone crackled, and I staggered backwards, a gush of the special ice heart's blood flooding out. I was dazed, and the Eraser took advantage of it. He leaned back and propelled himself upward at me, shoving my shoulders with his paws and knocking me flat on my back. He pinned me, his claws buried into my collar bone. The bleeding stopped, and the bones fixed themselves, melting and re-freezing.

I struggled beneath the huge dog-thing, and he remained unmoved. I growled in pain as his claws dug in deeper, and he raised one paw, bringing it down onto my temple with nearly crushing force. At that point I could no longer keep my eyes open, and so the next few moments, maybe minutes or hours, flew by, accompanied by a flicker of light and changing scenery. It didn't seem like long enough to have gone anywhere, but by the time I awoke everything had changed.

I stared out the windshield of a fast-speeding car, my head still wrapped in a thick fog. I was in the backseat of a very fancy, shining, clean car with red leather upholstery; my bright white hair and silvery-white wings stood out like fire in a snowstorm. My head was staring between the driver's and passenger's seats, and my wings were curled tightly around me.

I sat up slowly, my eyes locked on the driver of the fancy car. He was unnaturally handsome, with long, sleek black hair that was down to the base of his neck and rested just above his eyes. He had beautifully tan skin, and gorgeous gray eyes. He glanced back to stare at me in the rearview mirror.

"You're awake," he murmured softly in an angelic but still gruff voice. "That's good… Make yourself presentable."

His left hand slid off the wheel to a pad of buttons on the handle of the car. He pushed a pale glowing blue one, and the seat rose and turned over where my head had been; the seat had turned into a tray of a first-aid kit and cosmetics.

I lifted up a silvery mirror with intricate rose designs along the edges, examining my face where the Eraser had struck me. There was a very dark bruise and marks where the claws had pierced my skin. I traced the wounds with my fingertips, and winced in pain.

The driver looked back at me again. "That's the only truly noticeable wound. Your nose healed just fine."

I set the mirror back on the tray, and my blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How did you know what—"

He smiled devilishly, and his pearly white teeth showed the same vicious points as an Eraser's jowls did. "I'm sure you can remember if you try hard enough, dove," he sang in an amused coo.

I pulled in a quick, short breath, my teeth baring in anger. "You're the Eraser, the head of the pack."

He cackled that same eerie laugh. "Bingo. Now get yourself cleaned or I'll scar your pretty little wings, too." His voice showed he wasn't kidding about the threat. "The director doesn't want to see how badly you fight."

I wanted very dearly to defy him, but I knew if I didn't treat the wound soon it would become a permanent scar, or, even worse, become infected. I instantly took the anti-bacterial wipes from the first aid kit and cleaned out the gashes. With no more dirt and debris inside them they began to slowly close. Like dear little Max, I have quick healing, as long as no debris is in the wound.

It didn't take long to clean up the wound and get it covered up with make-up. I'd done it before, when I'd gotten into a fight with a gang of kids at school. Well, several times. The wounds were still small scars, and I suspected they'd always be there, but the cover-up hid them well.

The Eraser man stared back to the mirror again, staring softly across my face. "You did a good job. I can barely tell how badly I beat your butt in the attic."

I scowled at him and said tartly, "You and I both know that you cheated."

"Oh, did I?" he replied innocently.

"Yeah, you did!" I retorted, my eyes flaring. "You made me have to fight in the dark, and you knew I couldn't see in the dark like you and your mutt friends can."

"Oh?"

"You cheated," I muttered again, folding my arms across my chest and turning my head to stare out the side window. His only reply was an amused chuckle.


End file.
